


twelve feet deep

by haemophilus



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Darkfic, Drabbles, Gen, M/M, Mac and Dennis move to the suburbs, fill in the blank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-20 14:04:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10664166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemophilus/pseuds/haemophilus
Summary: Three weeks and two days into their stay in the suburbs, Dennis woke up with the taste of acrid smoke in his throat.A series of drabbles about Mac and Dennis Move to the Suburbs.





	1. Locks

**Author's Note:**

> 100 words is an interesting challenge and works nicely into my busy schedule. No idea how long this will be but I'll keep it open.
> 
> Anyway, this first one was brought to you by a conversation with a friend about how Mac & Dennis curtainfic is picking out creepy locks for Dennis's room. CW for Dennis Reynolds being a fucking creep, as always.
> 
> Title of this fic is from 12 Feet Deep by The Front Bottoms because that's how far in over my head I am with my love for these characters.

“Mac, look over here. I need your judgement on something,” called Dennis from down the aisle at the Home Depot. Mac broke his attention from figuring out how to steal some basketball-themed light switch covers that Dennis had claimed were ‘tacky as shit, Jesus Christ’ and said, “What?”

Dennis held up two locks, one latch and one enormous padlock. “Which one for my room?”

Mac squinted at them, weighing the pros and cons. “Why not both? If you’re looking for security, you probably want as many as possible.”

Dennis laughed; it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re absolutely right. Thanks, dude.”


	2. Suburbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hate sex. Suburbs is a vehicle for my passion.

Dennis was fucking Mac face-down on an unmade, cum-stained bed. His hand was clenched in Mac’s greasy hair, purposefully gripping it as tight as he could so that he could send the message loud and clear: _God, I fucking hate you._

It had been two and a half weeks since they had moved into this Suburban nightmare, and every sleepless night was worse than the last. Dennis thrust into his roommate harder and harder, hoping that the moans and the squeaking of the bed would drown out the pool filter and the cries of their starving dog.

It didn’t work.


	3. Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with Suburbs angst.

Three weeks and two days into their stay in the suburbs, Dennis woke up with the taste of acrid smoke in his throat. He got out of bed, wandered around the house to look for fires among the trash (because the broken detector wasn’t going to catch them), and looked out the windows to see if their neighbors were having bonfires in their yards. Nothing.

He ended up in the kitchen with a book of matches in his hand, and struck one until flame appeared. His heart pounded as he dropped it on the floor.

Unfortunately, the fire went out.


	4. TV

Dennis had never been grateful for the company of good old fashioned radio until he moved to the Suburbs. Twelve days in, and still there was no internet or television, and no goddamn technicians scheduled to come in either. Every morning since day three, Dennis had eaten his morning cereal in the dark, staring into the ever-growing holes in the wall as Jenny from NPR blathered on about the politics of quinoa.

Creaking on the stairs alerted him to Mac’s presence. He was unshowered – had been for days.

“What’s that sound?” he said.

“Wish it was TV,” replied Dennis coldly.


End file.
